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Christmas Is For Firemen

firemanhotDear Santa,

Andshelaughs would like a fireman for Christmas…

Yah, I hope I find a buff-eager fireman under my tree this year, but what can I say, I’m a dreamer.

Last night I said good-bye to some very dear friends, and big, ole’ tough me cried myself to sleep. I felt so homesick for them, I just rolled out of bed now. The laundry can wait.  I’m busy moping.

So, I finally get out of bed this morning, pour a good dose of Jimmy Buffet into the speakers and turn the coffee pot on, all the while dressed in a t-shirt and a bracelet. Don’t try to picture it, you’ll hurt your eyes.

My hair is long now because I’m trying to grow it long enough to pull back in a practical something or other while on the sailboat this winter. That means instead of being short and wild, it’s long and wild.  What remains of my mascara after scrubbing my face last night has made itself more comfortable in the hollows of the bags of my eyes, and somehow I’ve managed one sock.

It’s morning. My daily nemesis. Describing me as, ‘Not a morning person’ is like saying the Dali Lama is sorta spiritual. I suck at mornings. More importantly, I’m ok with it.

I’ve turned on the coffee pot, yawned, and have a copy of the New Yorker in my hand featuring a story about bull-riding. I love bull-riding. And boxing. Those sports fascinate me. So, Ms. bawling mess homesick for her friends is in the kitchen looking, well, homeless, and reading about bull-riding when the fire alarm goes off. Not my smoke alarm, the one wired into the 12 units of homes that I live in.

Immediately, I shriek, “Oh Golly!”. Ok, I do not shriek, “Oh Golly”, but if I’m ever going to be ‘Freshly Pressed’ on WordPress I have to stop using the f-word. So, use your imagination. I say, “Oh…..k!”

I don’t panic because first of all, it’s before noon and I just don’t panic before noon. That’s way too much effort. I already know what’s happening. It’s fire alarm testing day.

Whenever I am home on a Friday it’s freaking-fire-alarm-testing day. I know that within moments, my Christmas wish is going to be almost true. There will be firemen in my house.

You have never seen a chubby middle-aged blonde woman move so quickly!

…and that’s how it happened Santa, honestly.

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Everything That’s Wrong With the World

The First Thanksgiving, painting by Jean Louis...
The First Thanksgiving, painting by Jean Louis Gerome Ferris (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Last night I was reminded yet again of the unfortunate state of our fortunate society when a television network aired a commercial for a children’s version of Hell’s Kitchen, or some such ridiculous program.

Really? Is this what we want to teach our children, to criticize their peers at work, and work in a threatening environment?! Give me a break.

What the world needs now is kindness, compassion, and generosity.  A new generation of pretentious bots doesn’t give me much faith that the growing trend toward spiritual ignorance and egotism is going to make this planet a better place to live.

I daresay the little darlings who will star in this heinous entertainment debacle and their misguided parents would even recognize the subtlety of sarcasm my sweet, juicy, peaches.

Unfortunately I have had to endure meals sitting with such gastronomic goons. Their obsessive criticism is a less than convincing smoke screen of negativity spewed forth in order to boost their image of superiority.  Talk about indigestion my darlings!

Breaking bread together has long been more than a way to sustain physical health and strength.  Meals have also been a ritualistic way for people of all cultures to celebrate rites of passage, express spirituality, and welcome others to our family and home.

Thanksgiving is a particularly poignant reminder of what it means to share a meal together. Sharing food has been an act of peace for thousands of years.

It has also been used as an aphrodisiac in the arsenal of skilled lovers since the dawn of time. Imagine the mood if, while feeding your lover a chocolate dipped strawberry,  they piped up with, “That would be better with slightly less chocolate”. I’ve never been a fan of mud wrestling, but I think the ensuing nude mayhem would be akin to Roman sporting events.

The recent trend toward people self-describing as ‘foodies’ has marked a decline in civilization as we know it. I like to call them ‘rudies’ instead.

That’s the polar opposite of the folks whom will be sharing our Thanksgiving meal next weekend.

No, don’t panic darlings, we’re celebrating a week early so that yours truly has an opportunity to take an extra-long weekend for the actual ‘Thanksgiving’ holiday.

But enough of my wonderful life, back to ‘Everything That’s Wrong With the World’.

I am an advocate of good company and gracious living. That means that no matter how terrible a recipe has gone awry, or how bold the wine-food companionship, you ought to graciously  thank your host and get on with the real matter at hand – enjoying  precious time together.

A few reminders for foodie-rudie’s this Thanksgiving;

1) First and foremost we don’t need to hear that you think the stuffing is too ‘sagey’. Sagey isn’t even a word.

2) Do not suggest a ‘better’ wine match. There likely are many better or ideal wine matches to the meal. We don’t want to know. We just want to relax and enjoy the bounty which is set before us.

3) No. Not everyone thinks that the dessert you brought is the best thing they’ve ever tasted, nor do we need to be corrected with regard to the ethnic pronunciation.

4) Your job is not to upstage the host/hostess. Your job is to be kind and entertaining. Should you fail those most basic social requirements, do not expect a second invitation or a second date.

5) No one cares how you ‘prefer’ your food to be prepared. We prefer that you maintain the most basic rules of civility.

6) Expect someone to roll their eyes and tell you to shut up if you make even one negative comment in your outdoor voice.

7) Rest assured that you will not get laid by anyone, ever,  should you talk about what certain foods do to your digestive system. Know your food limit and eat within it.

Everything that’s wrong with the world begins at your very own breakfast, lunch and dinner tables my sweeties. Kindness, good manners and the ability to enjoy simple blessings is nurtured every day as we ‘break bread’. If you fail to appreciate this, you really fail to understand the meaning of life.